The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?! Chapter 182 - 182 168 Magic School Officially Enrolling Stud

182: Chapter 168: Magic School Officially Enrolling Students Tomorrow 182: Chapter 168: Magic School Officially Enrolling Students Tomorrow Ti rewound to about two and a half months ago.

“Doomsday Magic Ring” finally underwent an update, which gathered the wandering Undead from the wilderness and, quite irresponsibly, tossed them into the nearby Newbie Village, ending their aimless journeys.

More than eighty Undead stood bewildered at the edge of Soul Valley, gazing ahead blankly.

Even though it was noon, the sun had already tentatively flown over the top of the valley, but the valley’s rock walls, intertwining like interlocked fingers, stretched upwards forming an arch that seed determined to block out all light.

The sensation of abruptly switching from one scene to another was a bit disorienting, as if the deep canyon’s terrain was a giant maw waiting for them to willingly walk into its trap.

“Is there a town ahead?”

Having no hearts, the Undead didn’t feel fear – the change in geographical surroundings only elicited their exclamations; after all, this is a ga, they couldn’t die nor feel pain.

Moreover, they had finally encountered other players and were about to witness the vitality of a town, their joy was too soon to co.

Not having seen companions for a long ti had suppressed their need to confide to an extre, and now they needed to chat freely with each other while on the move.

Everyone had different experiences, but it seed they weren’t too far from each other, as all present had appeared in cold regions.

So players on the forums appeared in tropical areas, and so were even surprised to find themselves in a humid and wet climate, leading them to suspect that they might not be on the sa planet.

Perhaps like Earth, it had multiple continental plates.

But so far, nobody had accessed the higher-tier maps, not to ntion that so people didn’t even know the na of the country they were in, while those who did couldn’t pinpoint their exact location.

So even revisited a previous hypothesis.

They might not actually be in a massive open world, but rather in countless little sandbox worlds, and it was the ability to communicate with each other that created the illusion, making everyone think they were just far apart from each other.

The ga was highly rated, but that was based on its realism; in reality, because the map was too empty, with too few monsters and even fewer NPCs, there was a strong sense of solitude, making for a poor gaming experience.

The group of people was stopped upon reaching a small town ahead.

Guarding the gate was an old soldier wearing an unusual piece of armor.

His beard had turned gray, and it covered the lower half of his face like a mask.

He was dressed in leather armor, with cotton pants for the lower body, and his knees were wrapped in kneepads from an unknown origin with mismatched patterns, likely not from the sa faction.

The most interesting part was the shoulder pads on his shoulders, resembling two small hillocks.

An old man dressed in a patchwork style of armor.

“We co from…

over there,” one of the Undead stepped forward and said, “From over there, and we wish to seek asylum.”

The old soldier raised his crossbow, but as the arrow swept back and forth, he seed unsure whom to threaten.

With such a large number, his crossbow was a bit overwheld; he might not even have 20 arrows to muster altogether, yet there were over eighty people in front of him, outnumbering the able-bodied n in the town.

“Wait,” the old soldier turned and retreated behind the city gates, closing them with a motion of his hand.

A rush of people without care would surely cause trouble.

But to the old soldier’s surprise, these poorly-dressed refugees were very obedient; told to wait, they just waited, and even started organizing themselves into a queue spontaneously.

Such strange people, unexpectedly docile indeed.

Soon, the town gates opened again, and a woman emanating a ripe aura ca forward.

She wore a cotton robe and held a wooden staff inset with stones; the handle of the staff was even wrapped in leather to ensure it wouldn’t wear on the hands too much.

“I am Morena, the Mayor of Crying Town,” the woman said, “You may seek refuge here, but Crying Town will not provide food for you, and you must work.”

Asking them to work without food, if they were real refugees, they might hesitate to agree, but those standing here were not refugees but players.

So without hesitation, they agreed at once.

Finally, they did not need to wander outside; having a place to shelter from the wind and to receive quests was enough to satisfy them.

The Undead successfully entered Crying Town.

The entire town looked worn and tattered, ranking as one of the worst among the exposed starter towns in the ga; although there was no sign of vigor on the people’s faces, they bustled about, as if there were urgent tasks at hand, sotis pausing at the end of a road before abruptly turning back.

The NPC’s movent patterns were fixed, so the players didn’t feel anything was amiss.

And so, they successfully joined Crying Town.

Work, earn money, buy weapons.

Crying Town has always been stingy, not only offering ager rewards for quests but also providing very few of them, often leaving the Undead with nothing to do, which contrasted starkly with the famously generous “Star Dragon Ridge” starter town.

Star Dragon Ridge was swamped with quests, and what a happy problem that was.

I could settle for less reward, but at least give the opportunity to grind.

After so ti, the undead had slowly gathered so starting capital, allowing them to replace their broken swords and don worn garnts, which made them perfectly blend into the environnt of Crying Town just by their eclectic style.

Amazing adventures were for others; the inhabitants of Crying Town could only spend their days digging up wild herbs and vegetables, patrolling in the cold wind at night.

However, one day, Crying Town welcod an unexpected visitor.

With his white peppered beard hanging down to his chest, he wore a starched cotton robe that was a little faded but exquisitely crafted, and a crescent-shaped hat on his head.

This was a Mage, almost everyone thought so at first glance.

Learned and with a wise look in his eyes, had he suddenly pulled out a two-handed sword and then cried out “Illumination Spell,” eighty percent of the undead would have believed he was the most powerful White Robe Wizard.

Just as the undead gathered around, hoping to get sothing good from the stranger, the old Mage who called himself “Do” decided to take action himself.

Do stood at the crossroad, attracting passersby with his loud singing.

The undead were very good at joining in the buzz; scores of them crowded over, occupying the front row, and imdiately making Do’s little stall lively.

Even the NPCs that wandered about Crying Town like animated corpses had their attention caught and began to slowly gather around.

“Ladies and gentlen, please allow to introduce myself,”

With a gentle shake of his right wrist, dazzling light burst forth from his fingertips, and as he suddenly opened his hand, the light broke free and soared into the sky, then “boom”—exploded into fireworks.

“Woo~” The undead were very supportive; this was the first ti they had seen magic with their own eyes since entering the ga and found it utterly fantastic.

A White Robe Wizard that plays with fireworks!

Too bad he doesn’t use a two-handed sword.

The response from the residents of Crying Town was more muted; their eyes remained lifeless, gathering there more like they were completing so task.

“I am Do~” Do bowed, and his white beard trembled lightly as he pushed it up with his cheekbones; he seed to be smiling, though it was hard to see.

“As you can see, I am a wizard and can achieve so quite impressive effects with magic,”

He chanted quickly under his breath, his beard quivering, but no sound ca out, indicating he was murmuring to himself.

When he opened his palm again, a fireball appeared at its center, the fireball spinning rapidly.

As it whirred through the air, the fire atop the fireball burst into a blaze and, in Do’s palm, it turned into a fire tornado as tall as a man.

The explosion of flas in front of them did not scare the undead away; in fact, several dauntless ones moved even closer, so even wanting to reach out and touch it.

Do got a fright and hurried to dispel the fireball but it was a step too late; the next mont he saw the undead who had touched it enveloped by the fire tornado.

The crowd erupted, and the residents of Crying Town ran away in fear.

The undead, on the other hand, gathered curiously in front of the burning corpse; the mont of contact had instantly cleared the pitiful level 1 health bar of the undead.

The corpse persisted for about 2 seconds before it “boom” exploded into ashes.

The scene left Do puzzled.

At the sa ti, he swallowed the speech he had prepared earlier.

These people were a bit weird!

Before long, sothing even more startling happened; the person who had died in front of him was bouncing back from a distance.

“You, you’re not dead?” Do couldn’t help but ask, his mission now completely out of his mind.

“We are undead,” the undead who had just died responded eagerly, happy to be addressed directly by an NPC, and they had thoroughly enjoyed dying.

As long as the pain sensation is turned down, dying can actually be quite interesting, giving one the chance to experience different ways to die.

“Undead?” Do’s curiosity grew, along with a strong desire.

He was sure that nothing could surpass the need to satisfy his curiosity, “Can I kill you again?

I will pay you.”

He expected his request to be rejected but the other party agreed without a second thought.

“Alright, co on!”

Do used magic again, and the fireball plunged into the undead, sparks flying and making Do jump.

The undead died once more and turned into ashes.

Do watched the ashes for a long ti, lost in thought, until the resurrected undead ran back from a distance.

Indeed, undead!

In the following days, Do actively sought out the mayor of Crying Town, Morena.

They huddled together, discussing sothing that made the undead seethe with envy.

The old White-bearded Wizard and the attractive Mayor, malicious guesses and jokes never ceased.

Later, Do left Crying Town, but suddenly fliers started being distributed around the town.

“Magic School officially opens tomorrow for enrollnt.

With Magic Mistress Morena and Headmaster Mr.

Do, we welco you to explore the mysteries of magic together!”

Crying Town transford overnight, providing a source of new students for the Magic School.